The Follow-Up

Today I received a birth announcement from a mama whose birth I attended last month.  It was such a beautiful card, featuring two pictures of the adorable baby girl that I had been privileged to see enter the world just six weeks earlier.  I am on call for another birth now, and have been for almost two weeks.  I hate being on call.  There is something about my mind that is never quite settled, and every on call session, I start to wonder why on earth I chose this path.

Then, of course, the mama goes into labor and I get to watch it all over again: a woman's inner strength shining through her as she brings into the world a new tiny lifeform.  There's blood.  There's sweat.  There's usually some tears.  It's amazing, and each time I kick myself for questioning my love for this work, no matter how fleeting the thought was. 

My favorite thing, honestly, is running into the family at a later date.  Sometimes they contact you with an accompanying photo, the baby that had been a mere six pounds now pulling up and taking practice steps.  Sometimes you just run into each other in the grocery store or at a yoga class.  It's all wonderful, and such a great feeling to know that they thought of you as an important part of their birth experience.

Last month I also supported a woman through an abortion.  Since we are not yet ok'ed by the clinic, I can't say I was her "doula," but I did my best with what I had: we had several conversations over the phone, I drove her to the clinic, I held her hand as she completed her paperwork, and after it was over, I drove her back home and left her with self-care instructions to go along with the instructions she had received at the clinic. 

This was a very wanted abortion, at least as wanted as it could be considering its need arose from a very unwanted pregnancy.  It was not sought due to financial restrictions, fetal anomoly, or an abusive relationship.  This woman had simply become pregnant accidentally.  She was young and not ready to be a mother.  By the time we left the clinic, all the anxiety I had read in her voice in the days prior were gone.  We barely even talked about the abortion on the half-hour drive back to town, except that she had used the breathing techniques I suggested and they worked really well.  We talked about what she was studying in college, how she was hoping to feel upbeat enough to go to a party that evening, and how she was planning on spending her summer break.  Back at her house, she hugged me and thanked me for being there for her, and I told her to give us a ring if she needed to talk about anything later on.  I haven't heard from her since.

The difference between birth doula'ing and abortion doula'ing may seem immense, but it's really the same kind of work.  You discuss options, make sure the person you're supporting can make informed decisions, support them through whatever decision they make, and are there for them every step of the way (except during the abortion procedure, for security reasons).  The major difference is, obviously, the outcome.  I could sit down and write an email to any one of my birth clients, and I'm sure I would later recieve not only an update, but a link to a Picasa album as well.  When I emailed my abortion patient the next day, just to see how she was feeling, I never heard back.  Which is fine.  And I'm sure if I did run into her at the grocery store, we would chat and things would be cheerful.  But of course, there would be very little ooh-ing and awe-ing over how not pregnant she was the way I would ooh and awe over my birth clients' babies ("Oh, he's gotten so big!"  "Oh wow, you look great!" etc). 

This makes abortion doula work rewarding in a completely different way.  At the end of the day, you don't get announcements in the mail about how not-pregnant your client is.  They don't send you pictures of their flat belly or write you telling you how not being pregnant is going for them.  From what more experienced abortion doulas have told me, you usually don't hear anything from them ever again.  Statistically, you're not even likely to get a request for a post-abortion resource. 

When you're supporting someone through an abortion, the moment that you actually connect is very fleeting.  But that's really the beauty of it.  My abortion patient told me that she was happy I was able to drive her, because her friends would have had expectations of how she should act/feel/react.  I, on the other hand, had no expectations for her: to her, I was a kind stranger with a good ear.  What I was for her was exactly what she needed, and I suppose that in and of itself is plenty for me.