Why I Dropped the Phrase "All Births For All People"

Up until recently, I believed that I was willing and capable of supporting all births for all people. However, a client and I recently ended our relationship and it made me realize that boundaries that I have set in place for the overall health and happiness of myself and my family mean that I cannot support any and every person or birth setting. Oftentimes, I can sense whether a client is a good fit before we even meet (enter a dash of expert level internet research). Other times, it takes the consultation to know whether I want to work with them. During most of the pandemic, I’ve chosen to be a little loose with my boundaries and occasionally ignored my intuition about folks. It hasn’t worked for me or for some clients, so I’m making a change.

One thing that I think a lot of folks, including myself, do not always consider when entering a relationship with a doula is that it is just that, a relationship. Yes, the client pays me to provide a service, but I cannot do that well if boundaries are not well established (on both ends) and one another’s humanity is not respected. While ours is one relationship, we have others that we must attend to with equal or more love and time.

On my end, a couple examples come to mind. I have two children who are the most important people in my life. If they need me, I’m going to be there for them, which is one reason I have backup doulas available. I also value my relationship with self which is why I find that my “built of straw” pandemic boundaries were a terrible idea. Having attended 80-something births is enough to know that I cannot support you without fear or a protective response with any provider or in any birth setting that you choose. And while most people that I work with are different than me and make different choices than I’d make (back to my focus on one another’s humanity), there are some folks that I cannot enter into a business+personal relationship with.

So, I want to apologize to people I’ve unintentionally, but undoubtedly, misled with the phrase “all births for all people.” I also apologize to myself for not seeing how that led to crossed boundaries and near burnout. I’m looking forward to being a better doula for you. Not for everyone, but for you and for me.

Pre-Thanksgiving Ingratitudes from Your Grateful Doula

Response to "Gratitude Lists Are B.S. — It Was an "Ingratitude" List That Saved Me" by Liz Brown, originally seen on Britta Bushnell, PhD's page

Please read Liz Brown’s article now…

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When my therapist recommended that I keep a gratitude journal, it made sense that noting the positive things in my life could be a beneficial way to change my outlook for the better. Writing a few gratitudes daily was easy. And that's just it. I've never struggled finding things to appreciate in my life. What I've struggled with are, well, the struggles. Making the gratitude list didn't change my perspective, it made me feel "sadder and deeply ashamed" as Brown notes in her article.

After reading Brown's story, I immediately thought about how people are so quick to remind new parents to find the "little joys" in the day. It starts as soon as someone starts mentioning any discomforts or fears in pregnancy:

"The pain in my groin is unbearable."

"That probably means your baby is moving down and you'll get to meet him soon!"

Or, "The baby was kicking all night and I couldn't sleep."

"But isn't it so much fun to feel them move around!"

Then there is the infamous, "at least your baby is healthy" response to nearly any negative thought (or outright trauma) a person has regarding labor and birth. A total shut down of a person's experience in an attempt to point out the positive. It's during the early postpartum period that I find people frequently push gratitude as a means for improving the new parent's experience:

"I haven't slept more than two hours straight in weeks and I feel like she nurses all day long."

"Look how cute those chubby cheeks are, though. She's gaining weight like a champ. And you got to catch up on all of the shows you like to watch in the process."

Or, "I feel like I'm going crazy talking to an infant all day."

"It's so good for his development. I bet he'll be talking by the time he's one. And you're really lucky that you get to stay home with him for six more weeks. Hold on to these moments! Time flies and you'll miss this sweet baby babble."

Brown's article brought so much relief. I'm not an ungrateful person. Like I said, I could fill pages with deeply heartfelt gratitudes. But I'm also not a super cheerful, bubbly, beam of light. I'm not and I can't fake it 'til I make it on that front. I think that gratitude lists may not be compatible with my personality type, whatever it is. Brown's candid thoughts let me know that I'm not alone and it's doubtful that she's the only other person in the world who feels that way.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could create more space for pregnant and birthing people and new parents to share their ingratitudes? Maybe in doing so, they or the listener would be able to understand what is causing the stress/hurt/negative experience and actually offer a productive and helpful response instead of trying to cast it aside or overshadow it with the "little joys." If nothing else, maybe the person will feel better if all you do is validate their feelings and allow them to share.

Your friend in feelings good and bad,

"Meh"gan