Labor in Love

They say love is what created your baby, so what better way to bring your baby into the world than love. I have read this or heard this countless times. I have watched videos demonstrating this, but I have never experienced it. Truth be told, I am not a very lovey-dovey person. I prefer to work independently with my husband’s help as needed. When I labored, I did not want him near me. I’m not sure if it was because I was just frustrated and upset because I was being induced or if it is just how I tend to work best. I never quite understood the videos of people laboring in love because I just don’t work that way. In my head, I’m thinking “how in the world are these women letting their partner stay in their face and kiss and rub on them”? Today, that changed. 

I never know what to expect when getting the call that a client is in labor. It is 4am. I was in a very lovely deep sleep and when I heard my phone ring, I thought it was my alarm. SNOOZE. Nope, not my alarm, it is go time. It is crazy how quickly you wake up and instinct opens the filing cabinet drawer in your brain with all your doula knowledge without hesitation. My husband wakes up while I am on the phone and starts my coffee and gets my snack bag together-- now that is our own type of labor of love. This man is my biggest supporter and he makes sure that I am ready to go each time I get the call. Doula hat goes on (figuratively) and out the door I go. I hope in the car for the shortest pump up drive of my career. I find the song I am feeling at the moment and I turn it up. It all depends on the client, the time, how I feel. It can be meditative, worship, gangster rap. Gangster rap won because I was expecting a LONG day. I haven’t written about my other births yet, but all but one have been 24+ hours long. I thought this one may be the best place to start because the “curse” has been lifted and I made it home in less than 12 hours!

That curse made me believe that I was going to walk into my client’s home and work with her and her husband through early labor. To be honest, I thought this as I met her in the bathroom and silently watched her and her husband work through a few surges (I’ll be using this word to refer to contractions). We work through a few more and I suggest a change in position. Let’s mix some activity with the rest. I did not expect to hear “I feel like I need to push”. My face: straight. My words: “let’s breathe through this and try not to push, let’s focus on breathing not the urge”, my brain: SHIT. I’m pretty sure my mind went through a full panic attack in about a span of 45 seconds. What needs to be done??? Read the room…. Read the vibe… How do we do this? Who does what? Shit…. Clothes, carseat, water, chargers because she wants her playlist, does anything else matter?  Not to mention the complete disbelief going through my head… this isn’t happening… You already know that my “curse” was lifted, so the joke was on me. This was happening and it was happening fast. 

Grabbed my bag, grabbed my water and into their car I went. Let me tell you, that was the most strenuous 12 minute drive of my life. I never knew how strong my one leg and one shoulder were until I had to wedge them in between the seat and car door and into the back of the driver seat. And I know I am strong… I know how much I can squat and lift overhead. This is an entire different level of strong. I just kept reminding myself- you do not leave her back and you do not fall on her. We make it and remember that joke being on me…. It really was. It was baby time which means it was doctor time. My heart fell through my stomach when I heard who the on call doctor was. I knew at that moment I needed to get my game face on and make sure my client was heard. I didn’t know exactly how the doctor was going to handle the situation, but I had a very good idea of how they would handle it. They took my idea and made it seem like a fairytale. Appalled is probably the best word to describe how I felt at the behavior of this professional. In high school, there was a saying of “taking my hoops out” as a way to reference you were about to fight someone. I felt like taking my hoops out in that hospital room. Instead of taking my hoops out, I watched my client advocate for herself and not give in. I could write an entire other post about this. I don’t want my feelings for this doctor to overtake the purpose behind this diary entry, so onward we go. 

My purpose for writing “doula diaries” is to give myself space to decompress after a birth and to share my experiences as a new doula. They will have some labor/client information in them, but will be centered around what I am experiencing internally during births. This entry is a little special because this birth blew me away with the overwhelming presence of love and connection. I met with my clients this past week for their postpartum visit and through teary eyes (I’m a huge cry baby) asked permission to write about what I felt in their presence. Graciously, they agreed and here I am finishing the post I started when I came home from the hospital. If you have never seen or heard of laboring in love, I highly suggest you check out some blog posts/videos. You can find them on social media like instagram and tiktok. If you made it this far into the entry, I hope I can find the words to adequately express what I witnessed. 

Alright, labor of love. That is what this is supposed to be about, so let’s get to it. Everybody experiences labor differently. Everybody works through hard things differently. Like I said in the beginning, I am a very independent person, I wanted to labor independently. I wanted to push independently. This experience changed my mind about my independence and showed me how much can be conquered with love…. Alright, really, let’s start now.  Walk in the door and instantly you can feel the love. Mom is laboring in the bathroom. Dad opens the door and rushes back to her. He instantly returns to applying counterpressure and reassuring her that she is in control. These were tender whispers as he leaned into her back. He stays with her as we move rooms and positions and is so in tune with her needs. Never leaving her for more than a few seconds at a time. Stopping to remind her that he loves her and that she is in control and doing amazing. Matching every word with gentle kisses to her forehead or shoulders or wherever he could manage to touch her. This is only the beginning. We spent a short amount of time at home before making the drive to the hospital. While in the car, Dad queued the hypnobirthing playlist and started his mission to get his family safely to the hospital. Transitioning from triage to delivery was quick. Dad stayed by Mom’s side through it all. Joining her bedside as we got to the room. Surges were met with gentle kisses to her hands and her face. I’m pretty sure at one point, I stood there wondering why am I here??? He’s got this!!! When things started to get hard or Mom lost focus he helped her find her breath again with just a whisper. As tense as that room was for a brief moment, he instantly changed it. I swear anyone that walked in that room could feel the oxytocin flowing through them. There was a complete shift in hospital staff. The room became quiet, calm, and welcoming (well as welcoming as a hospital room can be). As we progressed through delivery, Dad instinctually followed Mom as she moved positions to be close to her face. Still tenderly and affectionately reminding her that she is doing amazing. Washing away doubts with touch. Quietness never felt so loud as baby entered the world in a room filled immensely with love. 

When I envisioned laboring in love, I thought of everything written above. Kisses, rubs, sweet words. While I witnessed all of those things today, one of the most loving things I witnessed was Mom advocating for herself and baby. I’m not opening the door to the rabbit hole right now, but the doctor made it an easy decision for Mom to stand up for her desires during the birth of her child. Things weren’t exactly how we envisioned for this birth. There was no intention to be in a hospital. There was no intention to be delivering with this doctor. I felt my body go tense. I felt my stomach knot. I reached to take out my hoops *see above*. I stopped. My head shot up. My heart and stomach tingled with joy. Mom’s voice was LOUD and CLEAR: “I trust my body and I trust my baby”. Can we talk about the chills?  YES, MOMMA!!!! This love was fierce. This love was strong. Doctor shot back as intimidating as possible and everything seemed to bounce off of this force field of love. Mom did not back down. She made it very clear that she had choices and she was not going to change her mind on how she wants to birth. My job became mediation. Reassuring Mom that she has her choices and that her and baby are healthy and safe. Talking through policies with her in a less aggressive manner. Telling her that she is a ROCKSTAR in a whisper when I really wanted to shout it from the rooftops. Trying to bring the calm and quiet environment back to the room and allowing her to reconnect with her husband instead of hospital staff. 

This is LOVE. Loving yourself and sticking up for your beliefs and choices are hard. Seeing it in action is the most empowering thing I have ever experienced. She did not need me. All she needed was love (please start singing the song in your head). She became an inspiration to me in the way that I wish to birth, but also in the way that I wish to provide support as a doula. I am blessed to have witnessed this labor of love. It has helped me reconnect with my husband in the easy moments and even more in the hard moments. It has reassured my idea of the strength and unwavering love of a mother. Not the love that is splashed all over social media or in the ads. I mean unconditional agape love-- selfless, deep and sacrificial, persistent love. This is the type of love that gets you through labor and delivery. This is laboring in love.