Why I Became a Doula: My Journey to Birth Work

The Birth of my son June, 2015

If you had told me years ago that I would become a doula and study midwifery, I might not have believed you. But looking back, every step of my journey led me here. Birth work wasn’t just a career choice—it was a calling, one rooted in my own experiences of trauma, resilience, and the deep desire to change the way people experience pregnancy, birth, and postpartum.

A Birth That Changed Everything

In 2015, I gave birth to my son. Like so many first-time parents, I went into it trusting that my birth team would support me, that they would listen to me, that they would care. But that wasn’t my reality. Instead, I found myself in an environment where I felt unheard, abandoned, and powerless.

I was in an abusive relationship at the time, and the isolation I felt during pregnancy and birth only deepened the trauma I was already experiencing. I wasn’t just laboring—I was fighting to be seen, to be respected, to be more than just another patient on a busy hospital floor. My concerns were dismissed, my voice ignored. And when it was over, I was left to navigate postpartum recovery without the support I so desperately needed.

That experience broke me in ways I didn’t even realize at the time. But it also planted a seed—a seed that would eventually grow into my passion for birth work.

Putting My Dream on Hold

I knew I wanted to become a midwife after my son was born. I wanted to be the kind of support I never had. I wanted to create a different experience for other birthing people—one where they felt empowered, respected, and truly cared for.

But life had other plans. In 2018, I left my abusive relationship, stepping into the unknown as a single parent. Survival became my priority. I worked full-time to provide for my son, putting my dreams on hold because, at the time, they felt impossible.

Years passed, and while my dream never faded, it stayed just out of reach—until life forced me to slow down.

A Setback That Became a Turning Point

In 2023, I was in a car accident. At first, it felt like everything was falling apart. I couldn’t work, I couldn’t provide for my son the way I was used to, and I felt like I was losing control. But in that moment of stillness, something shifted.

My family stepped in, offering me the support I needed—not just to recover, but to finally pursue my dream. They gave me the space to breathe, to reevaluate, to remember why I wanted this so badly in the first place. And for the first time in years, I saw a path forward.

Answering the Call to Birth Work

I started my doula journey because I knew, deep in my bones, that no one should ever have to feel as alone as I did during my birth experience. I wanted to be a voice of reassurance, a steady presence, a reminder that birthing people deserve respect, autonomy, and care.

I started gathering resources for maternal mental health because I saw how undervalued postpartum care is in our society. So many new parents are left to figure it all out on their own, with little to no support for their emotional and physical recovery. I wanted to change that.

And I started midwifery school because I believe in the power of traditional birth knowledge, in the importance of reclaiming birth as a sacred experience, and in the urgent need to address the maternal health crisis in this country.

Why This Work Matters So Much to Me

I do this work for the birthing people who feel like they have no one in their corner.I do this work for the parents who are navigating postpartum with more questions than answers.I do this work for the ones who have been ignored, dismissed, and traumatized by a system that should have protected them.I do this work for my younger self—the one who felt abandoned, the one who just needed someone to say, “I see you. I hear you. You are not alone.”

Birth is a transformative experience, and every birthing person deserves to enter that space feeling empowered, informed, and supported. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’ll keep showing up.

If you’re on your own journey into parenthood, know that you don’t have to do it alone. There are birth workers—doulas, midwives, lactation consultants, and more—who are here to walk alongside you. And if you need someone in your corner, I’m here too.

Because no one should ever feel unheard in their birth story. Not if I can help it.