I don't NEED a doula! If this is you, READ!

An excerpt from The Doula Advantage by Rachel Gurevich, p. 3-4

"Will someone be with you in the labor room?" Sara, a mother who had given birth several times previously, asked me.
"My husband will," I answered. "We took a class." Sara looked up from her cleaning in the kitchen.
"Rachel, he's not going to be able to help you as much as you need. Will someone be there who is experienced with birth? Another woman?"
"My best friend will be there," I said. "I think I will be all right."
My best friend, though she had zero experience with childbirth and pregnancy, was ready to hold my hand and help support me. I assumed my husband would remember the techniques we learned in childbirth education class. Personally, I read as many book on childbirth as I could. I thought I was ready. I thought it would be okay. But it didn't turn out okay.
Much of the information I remembered from birth books and childbirth class I used incorrectly, partially because I was nervous and excited, partially because this was my first time. I remembered reading that a woman should not eat or drink during childbirth, but I didn't realize they meant true labor - not pre-labor.
I arrived at the hospital too early. The doctor decided to break my water to "get things moving," something I wished they hadn't done, but didn't know I could refuse. My husband tried to coach me in breathing exercises, but he thought hyperventilating was the correct way and slow breathing was incorrect.
My friend did exactly what I expected. She held my hand. But, she also looked at me like she was sure I would die, which didn't help my confidence. My mother was there, but she was overwhelmed watching her daughter give birth and not in the position to support or coach me.
I found the hospital environment intimidating. The nurses walked in and out of the room without even saying hello to me. I don't think I was once told their names. They positioned me on my back to strap on the fetal monitors, and a few minutes later I started to pass out. Lying on your back for extended periods of time in late pregnancy is dangerous because the weight of the uterus pushes on vital blood vessels. I called for a nurse to help me, and she had me lie on my side. I felt so helpless that I didn't even think to reposition myself until someone told me I was "permitted" to move.
I asked for some water but was only allowed ice chips. Because I'd had no fluids the entire day, I was feeling ill and needed hydration. After a couple of hours, my husband asked a nurse when they would check my cervical dilation.
"Whenever she asks for drugs," the nurse replied.
My husband, knowing I wanted to give birth normally asked, "What if she never asks for drugs?"
"Oh, she will!" the nurse laughed. "I wouldn't have given birth to three children if it weren't for the drugs!" This happened in 1999, and from my work with doulas and women, things have not changed - and this attitude is common in all different parts of the country.
At that point, I felt no hope. I was exhausted, thirsty, and lonely. I didn't know it, but I was going through transition. I asked for an epidural and was told it would be another hour before the anesthesiologist could administer the medication. Ironically, my first experience with a doula came when I was given the epidural.
It is extremely important to stay still when an epidural is administered. I was scared to death. I knew I would have at least one or two contractions while they inserted the epidural catheter.
"We will work through them, and you will be okay," the nursing assistant assured me. Touching my arm, she looked straight into my eyes and said softly, "Breathe normally, in and then out...that's it, relax."
I sat up in the bed, resting my head on her shoulder while the anesthesiologist administered the epidural. When I started having a contraction, I began to panic. The nursing assistant's voice and words calmed me, more than I would have expected.
"Take a deep breath, Rachel. And, now, breathe out, try to relax your muscles, let the contraction happen....breathe in....and breathe out...don't fight your body, just let it happen. They peak, and then they fade away...it's almost over, take a nice, cleansing breath...very good."

This story gives me a warm sensation every time I read it. I can't imagine a husband or mother looking at their loved one in what seems like excruciating pain and being able to keep themselves together enough to soothe her. And, why should they have to? In fact, a doula can keep dad and other family members calm, too, by explaining what's going on, what to expect next, and that everything's going to be okay.

Have you had a similar experience? Share your thoughts with TBBC.