המאמר נשמר בהצלחה
המאמר כבר שמור במועדפים
כך תדעי אם את באמת דולה
אז מה? את דולה אמיתית או לא? ;-)
You know you're a doula when…
You misread "Pasta Primavera" as "pasta primapara."
You carry more supplies and luggage to a birth than you do when you go on vacation.
You go to "ladies night out" to see the Chippendale strippers, and you can't keep your eye off of that obviously-pregnant belly sitting 2 tables away.
While watching "A Baby's Story" with your ten year old son, he rolls his eyes and says "not another epidural!"
You are watching "Baby Story" and your 6 year old granddaughter looks across the room and tells her Aunt "this is the screaming show". Of course we think she means because some of the women scream in labor, but "no" she replies "this is the show that Nanny always screams at".
Your two year old son sees a freshly born baby on The Baby Story show and says, "Awww, pretty baby."
You watch a professional basketball game on TV, see all those shaved heads as caputs, and speculate as to their presentation at birth. Or...any large head you see makes you speculate how hard that would be to deliver.
You spend hours each day on the computer, yet when someone mentions they are in an "LDR", you first think of "Labor and Delivery Room". Not a long distance relationship.
You rejoice at the following - swearing, vomiting, pooping on the bed, nausea, gas, belching - let's see did I leave anything out? and think "Cool! We're getting close!"
You can see a woman vomit, urinate, defecate, spray amniotic fluid while in labor, or have a cesarean without a second thought. But if your child comes to you with a cut on his finger your knees swoon.
You check on your kids in the middle of the night and your three year old mumbles "Did her water break?"
Your almost 6 year old granddaughter says "Nanny can you come to my recital or do you have a doula thing to do"?
Your kids ask, "What was it, med or unmed," and they cheer at the unmedicated ones.
Your nine year old son is watching a Baby Story and mom has been pushing awhile. *He* hollers at the TV..."Have her squat!"
Your seven-year-old daughter says, "Mom why don’t Drs know this stuff?" while watching BS that stands for Baby Story and… well you know the other.
Your eight-year-old son gives you the nickname "Bertha."
When your daughter's boyfriend knows what effacement is.
When your seven-year-old tells you not to talk about labor in public.
You are asked to speak about your career your daughter's girl scout/brownie troupe and actually use your daughter to show back massage.
Your kids tell their friends that Mommy had another baby and was up all night.
Your children think all pregnant ladies know you.
Your children know more about birth than most women who have given birth to 3 babies.
Your seven-year-old son refuses to marry anyone who won't birth at home.
Your eight-year-old yells into the kitchen as you're fixing dinner, "She's only 2 centimeters and she's at the hospital already!"
Your son is doing a great job learning to read but cant figure out why the teacher keeps talking about contractions.
Your 16 year old takes a child development class in high school and knows more that the teacher about birth, breastfeeding and parenting.
You unconsciously think "Labor Pool" is a water-filled tub for a woman to lay in while having her baby… not a group of workers.
You can't help but butt in on any conversation containing words related to childbirth.
You know the birth stories of your mother, grandmothers, sisters, aunts, cousins, friends, neighbors, your children's teachers, the lady behind the counter at the cleaners, and a few dozen people you'll never meet again.
You sometimes have a sock in your microwave.
Your child wakes you up in the middle of the night and you mumble, "How far apart are they?"
You live for the times someone says, "A doula? What's that?"
You and your family think it's totally normal to discuss 1st, 2nd, 3rd & 4th degree episiotomies over dinner... you explain what a placenta looked like over spaghetti... heck you even discuss placental abruptions and calcifications over a roast beef…
You've been in bed with more women than you care to admit in mixed company.
You've touched more breasts than you care to admit in mixed company.
You have more pictures and videos containing naked women in your home than the porno shop downtown.
Discussing ANY subject, you can draw a birth parallel. In one late night email encouragement to a friend's 17-year-old son who is starting a homeschool choir. I likened him to a doula, helping to birth this new choir, handling all the labor pains, etc. It WAS 4am after all... and I DID have to do some further explaining in the morning.
You pack and repack your birth bag 3 times, check the on off switch on your pager/cell phone 5 times and go to bed with your clothes on... on a hunch... and you get called three hours later.
Your client snaps at you and you think: "Oh good, she's not smiling anymore!"
When your spouse knows to ask three questions: Are you in labor? If no, Is this an emergency?
Would you like her to call you back later or do you want her cell phone number?
You hubby asked was it a girl or a boy and rolls over and goes back to sleep.
Your husband can list off 3 risks of an epidural.... 3 ways to avoid an episiotomy or tear...etc. It's a game we play...and darned if he doesn't know the answer 90% of the time.
You tell the dad, "Go ahead, touch your baby, it ok" (cause every one else is too busy to notice he is aching to do so).
The guy at the photo shop passes out while developing your film.
Although you do poorly in math, you can instantly calculate how much more weight the birth ball can hold.
Your client is nearing her due date and you become fascinated by what she sees when she wipes and how soft her bowel movements are.
Your teenagers answer the phone and start by saying "how far apart are the contractions?"
You check out Stephanie's birth diaries site, you only look at the "very graphic" ones.
Or you RUN a site like Stephanie's birth story diaries site.
You realize you're breathing in patterns as you fall asleep.
Or... you sleep, you're usually dreaming about birth.
You see a metal mixing bowl in a store and think "placenta".
Or...you see a metal mixing bowl and think "vomit".
You know you're a doula when......your hubby is on his way out to get some movies & your thinking "see if you can find any good birth videos"
You know you are a doula when you praise a woman for a "winking anus" and poop while pushing!
You know you are a doula when while everyone else in the room is yelling and counting, "hold you breath, chin down, no noise, 1, 2, 3, pushhhhhhhhh harder harder." You are the only one in the room whispering in the moms ear "listen to your body, you are doing such a great job, look down, push your baby out, just like that, You are sooooooooo awesome!"
You're so exhausted you could weep, you haven't had a wee for 9 hours even though your bladder's bursting, you've just wiped poo from someone's backside, you have flecks of blood and vomit on your shoes, but there is still no place in the world you'd rather be.
Your flower garden is the best in the neighborhood because the fertilizer you use is your client's placentas!
So, what do you say? Are you a doula? ;-)
Send this to all your doula friends.
Written by an anonymous doula with a great sense of humor.