I Am A Rogue Doula

It was 2018 when I was first called this, but it had been 18 months of harassment before that point. 18 months of ostracism before I started getting hate mail and warnings to stay out of birth. Truth be told, the event that started everything off had me severely questioning whether I should be in birth at all.

What caused so many feathers to ruffle? Something that should ruffle feathers... the death of a child. Did you feel your own goose hairs pluck up there? Mine still do to this very day. I don't try to justify myself anymore. I don't try to make it sound better. It is what it is. Unjust. Unfair. Heart-wrenching. A child died. At nobody's hands, but my own. As the only person with the knowledge of how to do so, I performed infant CPR, waiting for paramedics to arrive... and this child faded away right in front of me- in my very own hands. It was like a nightmare.

This is why I was called a "rogue doula", but it was incorrect. The dictionary defines a rogue as an unscrupulous, deceitful, and/or unprincipled person. I was called this because I lied about my client's birth choices to others in my industry (though it's none of their gd business) to protect their unconventional choices. Naturally, that lie threw into question everything I had said to that point. A completely understandable reaction. I was ousted from that group of support and not allowed to return. And while this was a deceitful act, this is not who I am. 

With such a significant and quote "totally preventable" tragedy, the dialogue that proceeded to flank doula forums on an international level was: Did I go outside of my scope? And this is where I wholeheartedly claim to go rogue.


A Totally Preventable Tragedy
I refuse to ascribe to this idea of "scope". When asked if I am a doula or midwife, I respond "my job is not medical". While some gauged my response to the term "totally preventable tragedy" as remorseless, I knew it was not my job to prevent- to foresee, a medical emergency. My job was not medical, therefore my training was not required to be medical. I had taken previous First Aid/CPR to accompany my former profession as a nanny and it seemed appropriate to use these skills in the moment. More than that, it was authorized and desired by the parents.

There was a brief moment where I considered midwifery in response to the request of the bereaved mother, but even then I had no desire to take on this role. Even after her incredible loss, she still hoped for my involvement in future births. Her strength and hope amazed me. Insecurity crept in and I felt so weak for the devastation I felt for what had happened. After walking with her for as long as I could during her postpartum, I grieved. I had never seen death so closely, nor experienced it so intimately. I felt that I had danced some toxic waltz with it and was both ill and in silent awe.

I had seen the line between life and death and I couldn't unsee it. I stayed home, closed my curtains, and was barely able to function as I entered into a months-long depression. I berated myself. Hated myself. Questioned myself. Blamed myself. Finally, another client went into labor. I did my best to cleanse myself of my deeply laden negative energy and met them at the hospital. The family's first act after they were admitted and settled into their room was to gather and pray. I joined them. Things didn't go completely to plan (do they ever?), but at the end, this glorious, experienced mama looked at me and said "This has been the best experience I have had... I couldn't have done it without you!" It was all I could do to not crumple into a ball of ugly tears. I quietly eeked out the response "I did nothing- it was all you." Luckily, my fortitude held and I was able to arrive home before releasing the storm inside.

I truly felt I had done nothing. This mama, in  my eyes at least, needed almost nothing from me. I held her hand, which her spouse did just as well. I rubbed some oils on her back and minorly defended her birth plan, though she ultimately decided to deviate from it. I couldn't fathom what she actually needed me for. All of the insecurity and self-loathing rushed in... Wasn't I useless? Wasn't I cursed? How could I be good for anyone? Yet I was. I had helped in some small way and that smallness had been enough. I was enough. Maybe- just maybe- I could accept that I did all I could and, in the absence of a medical presence, it had not been my job to preserve that baby's life. It was a jagged pill to swallow.

When the first post about me went viral 18 months after the fact of the baby's death, I had forgiven myself. I had gone back to the parents and discussed the birth and whether my role and actions were appropriate. I was pregnant again, myself. I had restored my feelings of worth and purpose and was at peace. When the general public of social media got wind, they were not so kind. That is when the real issues came out with my kind of doula work. It wasn't about me, specifically- it was systemic. According to many, I shouldn't have attended a birth without a medical attendant (freebirth). I shouldn't have been "the most qualified person in the room". I shouldn't have given resources for disclosed unsafe situations. I shouldn't have stayed so long after the birth. I shouldn't have been in the birth pool with her. And so on. According to so many, this is what could have prevented such a tragedy... it was obviously my presence/support that affected this mother and baby's medical status.


Fearless Support
Here's the thing... as horrible an experience as it was, I would not have done anything differently. My actions and their choices were unorthodox and went against socially accepted norms, but I supported this mama- nothing more or less. I unabashedly went where she asked me to go (behind her in the birth pool). I respected her wish to stay home. I respected her wish to not have my doula shadow present. I respected her wish to birth without a medical attendant. In the opinion of many, I should have broken my contract with them and kept myself safe from any 'liability'.
I am a rogue doula.

Whomever, wherever, and however parents choose for their labor and birth, I will not recuse myself from a commitment I have made. Prior to such a commitment, I will state my own principles and conditions under which I will decline the contract, but there is no judgement in this- only an awareness of my limitations, as well as a comfort with saying "no". Among my limitations, you won't find unassisted birth as one of them.

It took awhile to realize, but my shortcoming as a doula was not that I did or did not offer what other doulas offer. It was not that I was unprincipled or unscrupulous... It was that I was not firm in my conviction that advocating for and supporting parents in whatever situation was and is the right thing to do. With this conviction, scope becomes inapplicable.

This may come as a shock to those not in the doula/birthkeeper world, but there is a fiery debate within this industry- should a doula have a limit to how much support is available to parents? Also worded as:
- Should a doula advocate for parents?
- Should a doula support parents within unconventional choices?
- Should a doula walk away from a couple they have committed to, under certain circumstances?

My side of the debate is what makes me and others "rogue doulas". I don't have a limit. I will walk through the flames with my clients. That scares some. Being fearless in the role of a doula is often not deemed appropriate. Some believe that holding such opinions will lead to escalated situations. It is often not fathomable that we can be fearless within a context of gentleness and love. Let me also stipulate: I am not careless with my clients- only fearless and unashamed of it. Some believe in "healthy fear". I do not. Some believe in "an abundance of caution". I do not. My beliefs stem from a simple fact of doula work: I. AM. NOT. MEDICAL.

I do not carry or concern myself with medical decisions. We have already outlined your desires for birth in our prenatal talks and in your birth plan. I will do my best to inform you of which medical choices could impact your available options. But I don't worry about what you will choose or if your choices will change... there's no sense! I can't change what you do, nor will I be the one deciding.


Why You Should Hire A Rogue Doula
I will never walk away from a birth I have committed to, even if your choices are not deemed "safe", "acceptable", or otherwise conventional. I will attend births without concern for how qualified I am compared to others in the room. I know what my job and role is. Finally- and this is where I really draw that line into rogue-ness: I will advocate for my clients, even in the face of a medical provider's professional opinion. Yes, I will also do my best to educate and empower the parents to do this for themselves, but if their voices are not being heard, I will, indeed, add my voice to the mix. Without a fiber of regret or second thought. I will also back down at the behest of my clients, also without regret or bitterness.

Though I have been accused of believing the opposite, this is not my birth and these are not my choices to make. I am only an extension of the parents' birth plan, albeit, a bit more lively extension. But this is also why one should hire a rogue doula. A rogue doula will not "switch teams" to start advocating that you give up what you want for your birth in the interest of the medical provider or hospital. A rogue doula will not sneer at your choices and abandon you. A rogue doula will not care whether or not they are the smartest, most knowledgeable, or most qualified in the room because YOU hired them and that is the only reason we are there!

At your request:
- I will hop into a birth pool with you, even if I didn't bring a bathing suit.
- I will attend prenatal appointments with you.
- I will stay all night long.
- I will leave when asked... even if Baby has not been born yet.
- I will strongly advocate your birth choice to your provider.
- I will support you as you completely change your birth plan.
- I will (do my best to) support your entire body.
- I will sit in the corner, being nothing more than a presence.
- I will allow you to scream at me, curse at me, squeeze me so hard I have bruises on my arms. And while I draw the line at physical abuse when considering what is and isn't acceptable, I will still not leave, unless you want me to.

There is no limit.


In a Nutshell...
A rogue doula sees you, as you are, apart from all of your merits and shortcomings, as a person undergoing a tremendous event that requires a reciprocal amount of support. We cannot determine this amount prior to walking through with you and so... there is no limit. There is no scope. There is YOU and YOUR choices. Our role, as we support our clients, changes and is different each and every time. We are not medical. Doula work intrinsically dictates this. The idea that our role could at all parallel that of a medical attendant is ridiculous. We cannot support you so devotedly if we are concerning ourselves with your medical status- it is not our place because it is not our job. We trust birth. We trust you and your baby. We trust that the outcome will be as it is meant to be. Good or bad. And we will be here to rejoice and/or grieve with you.

Without shame.
Without judgement.
Without fear dictating our actions.

I am a rogue doula.