What Does it Mean to Have a Doula On Call For You?

‘At 38 weeks of your pregnancy I will go on call for you. This means that you can contact me any time of the day or night if you think that you may be in or go into labour...’

Clients, friends and curious strangers often wonder what ‘being on call’ as a doula means. When asked, this is what I tell people about what it means to be ‘on call’ for someone, but the reality is starkly different.

When I go on call for you, you live at all times just at the edges of my vision. I wonder what you are doing, what your baby is doing, how you are feeling and if you need anything else to help you feel through these last precious days of pregnancy. When I am cooking dinner I mull over what you have told me throughout the course of our work together and what you might need from me during the moments that are to come which will take you to your very edges.

Occasionally, if I have left my phone in another room, I feel a lurch of panic as I grab at it and check that you have not called. You have not of course, I would have heard the special ringtone, the birth ringtone which I have assigned to you. As I plan days out with my toddler I mentally calculate how long it would take me to return home, gather my things, hand him over to my partner and get to you in your moment of need. We cannot go there, too far, here is better. My car is filled with petrol at all times. 

Perhaps you let me know one evening that you are feeling some twinges, or believe you have lost your mucus plug. Nothing to do for now, my mind says, get some rest in case things kick off shortly. My body says otherwise and I toss and turn and check my phone each hour to see if there has been a change. What if you forget to call me and instead send me a message and I don’t wake? What if my phone suddenly dies, whilst plugged in to the wall?

When the phone finally rings, that special ringtone I have set aside just for this moment, the adrenaline rush is enough to make me shake. In the five or so seconds before I pick up, I register what’s happening, feel the surge of excitement for you and then check myself and take some deep breaths. I cough if it’s the middle of the night to clear the sound of sleep from my throat. I answer sounding supremely calm and collected, and, if it’s the middle of the night, as though I have been sitting awake expecting this call any second.  

We chat, I ask how you are doing, what you are feeling, what your body is telling you and what you need. If we agree that it’s time for me to join you, I jump in the shower. I want to smell as neutral as possible, minimising the chance of disturbing your labouring or those early moments of bonding in any way. If you ask me to hold your baby later on, I will hope that I have not sweated too much since this shower - I don’t want to confuse your little bundle as I hold them to my chest swelling with deep admiration for you both.

Before I head out of the door I open my special bag, which has been ready for weeks. I check the list on my phone of ‘last minute grabs’ and add the essentials - phone charger, bottle of water, car keys. I hop into my teeny car and sit for a moment in the street on the edge of St Leonards-on-sea, gathering myself together mentally.

After a moment, I start the car I curse at the glacial pace that the nighttime mist fades from the windscreen. I listen to that playlist, the one just for these moments. I drive, keeping my hands steady and one eye on the time, how long is it taking me to get to you?

I pull up at your house, or at the hospital, or the birth centre, wherever you are, and I feel the pull of your birth. I sit resisting the urge to run to you. I turn the car off and listen to the ticking of the engine as it cools for at least two minutes, breathing myself back down to calm, willing my nervous system to turn the volume down and make itself ready for you and your needs. I collect together all of the emotions you do not need and lock them safely in the boot, away from your birth space. I am ready. 

I tap on the door, tiptoe into your space and when you’re ready I catch your eye, or whisper in your ear, ‘I’m here’. This is what it means to have a doula on call for you.