How to Become a Professional Doula in Cincinnati, OH If you are dreaming about becoming a Professional Doula in the Cincinnati area, you're in the right place! Maybe you've always loved all things pregnancy, birth and babies, or maybe you were inspired by your own experience that you fell in love with all things related to this stage of life or maybe your pregnancy, birth, or postpartum was so hard, lonely, or even traumatic that you want to do everything you can to make a difference for another person walking this path. Maybe you're an OBGYN, nurse, midwife, yoga instructor, or other provider hoping to gain more knowledge around doulas to better support your current clients or patients. No matter what, it sounds like you've heard the call and I commend you for seeking out the next steps! Becoming a doula certainly isn't for everyone, but for many, it leads to an exciting and ever-fulfilling career. There is such joy in supporting families through pregnancy, birth, and postpartum...and getting paid for it too! Here, I'm going to answer some common questions I get from people thinking about becoming a doula. At the bottom of this article, you will find 3 upcoming doula training opportunities. I encourage you to take the leap and sign up today. What is a doula? Birth and Postpartum doulas are non-medical professionals who help and support families, physically and emotionally through the huge life transition of welcoming a new baby to their family. Read more about the role of a doula in this blog post. Who can become a doula? Anyone can become a doula. Aside from reading material, there are generally no prerequisites to taking a doula training. I've seen people who identify as male and female, young and old, with and without kids at doula training events. You can become a doula. How long does it take to train to be a doula? It's normally a full weekend, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday at a training before one can consider themselves a trained and professional birth and/or postpartum doula. How expensive is it to become a doula? Your initial training cost will vary, from $400-$600. There may additional expenses associated with additional classes, reading materials, organization membership, and certification fees if you choose to certify. How much money can a professional doula make? It really depends on your availability and client load (how many clients you take at one time.) and how quickly you are able to connect with as many clients as you need to reach your goals. Birth doulas in the Cincinnati area charge between $400-$3000 per birth. Postpartum doulas charge between $20-$45 per hour. Honestly, there are so many variables but the sky is the limit, depending on your drive to connect with clients, how much you charge, and how much you work. Are there any certification or licensure requirements? At this time, doulas are not required to obtain licenses to practice. After a person completes their training, doulas can begin to see clients. Many doulas begin the path to certification through a certifying organization or agency of their choice as a way to continually learn and grow, have accountability, and to have an organization backing them up. My Experience and Mentorship Opportunity:
Upcoming Birth Doula Traning Opportunities in Cincinnati, OH: I personally know and love all of these trainers and the organizations that they are bringing to the area. I have seen doulas train with CAPPA and DONA and come out of their training well-equipped with information and support as they begin their doula pactice.
Upcoming Postpartum Doula Tranings: CAPPA Postpartum Doula Training: March 9th - March 10th
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The Forgotten MotherThe amount of times strangers have asked me what the gender of the baby was and would proceed with comparing my symptoms to theirs are endless. As an individual, and the fact that I was experiencing symptoms my own mother didn’t while pregnant with both my brother and myself, I took each suggestion with a large grain of salt. Yes, babies are an exciting part of life, but the thing is, people find it in themselves to lose their home training and boundaries. If you don’t know the pregnant woman’s name, don’t touch her! Don’t even ask to touch her. It doesn’t get any better once the due date comes. I faced a lot of anxiety when it was supposedly time for Baby to be born. People called and texted and wrote asking, where’s the baby? and when will the baby be here? Good question. The due date is an approximation. Merely a guess. The suspense was gradually increasing with each passing hour, so, I stopped looking on social media and basically ignored my incoming text messages. One week after my due date passed my anxiety had gotten to the point Kevin and I agreed no one, including family, would be invited into the house. This was very important to me. Planning a home birth and moving to a new city and state, I smudged our new home and did not want to taint the clean energy with the concerns of others. I was often asked which hospital we planned to deliver at, even a lady who works at our local ice cream shop asked. Our simple answer was, we weren’t disclosing that information to anyone, we just wanted it to be us when Baby arrived. There are, however, many young moms who took the time to ask me how I was doing or simply tell me that I was on their mind. Thank you for making sure I was mentally, physically, spiritually, and psychologically okay. You are the little pieces of heaven every soon-to-be mom can appreciate. People became even more strange once the baby was born. It’s almost as if you have entered the VIP section of life. At least having one baby, from my experience. People freely offer to open doors and even load your groceries into your car while carrying their own. It can be wonderful! And very much so appreciated. But equally with these interactions are those where no one thinks, or seems to care about the mother anymore. It seems as though all communication now pertains to Baby. Phone calls and text messages inquiring on how Baby is sleeping, eating, and how he or she entered into the world. But what about Mommy and her needs? And no, offering to watching the baby hours, days, and even weeks after birth are not always seen as helpful. Our bodies are physically able to take care of Baby right after birth in most cases. What many of us need are an extra set of hands. A prepared meal. Groceries brought to the house and put away. The bathroom cleaned. Our world has literally been flipped upside down and back again into a cluster of emotions and physical clutter. We need assistance, at least I know I did, and telling us that we are no longer of importance, especially right after birth, is definitely not helpful. So, to all the mothers who have felt as though they were forgotten at one point in their postpartum stage, you are not alone. Yes. You were important while you carried your child. Your existence and presence is even more vital than ever now. Others may feel as though they know what Baby needs, but no one can truly fill that need like the mother.
Disclaimers: As a community resource, Cincinnati Birth and Parenting welcomes submissions from guest bloggers. The views, opinions and positions expressed within these guest posts are those of the author alone and do not represent those of Cincinnati Birth and Parenting, LLC. The accuracy, completeness and validity of any statements made within this article are not guaranteed. We accept no liability for any errors, omissions or representations. The copyright of this content belongs to the author and any liability with regards to infringement of intellectual property rights remains with them. Blog posts may include affiliate links, which means we may receive a commission if you click a link and purchase something that we have recommended. While clicking these links won't cost you any extra money, they will help us keep our blog up and running! How I Achieved a Low Intervention BirthWritten By: Leah Zemany I have always been interested in pregnancy and birth. I distinctly remember sitting in church with my parents and there being a pregnant woman near us and I wanted nothing more than to touch her swollen belly. I was probably 6 or 7 at the time. Growing up I wanted to become a Neonatologist (a doctor specializing in newborn infants) but as I grew older my life goals changed. I didn’t want to spend so much time in school and put off having a family, another female conundrum that I could get on a soapbox about at another time. However, I knew I belonged in healthcare so I decided I would become a nurse. I was fascinated by my women’s health rotations and I absorbed as much information as I could. I did my role transition (a 9 week length of time where you follow around a working nurse and work their schedule) in labor and delivery. By that point in time I had read a fair amount on my own about birth and labor and the “less is more” notion. I was completely disenchanted with how the hospital approached birth and delivery. Ultimately, this pushed me away from going into that field. But I never stopped being amazed by the female body and what it inherently knew how to do. Flash forward roughly 10 years and my partner and I find out that I am pregnant! We were both beyond elated. And from the very beginning I knew what kind of birth experience I wanted. And honestly, if I didn’t have a medical background I probably would’ve opted for a homebirth but sometimes knowing too much can be a bad thing. My first step in reaching my goal was finding a care provider. I knew I wanted a midwife from the get-go. I felt like a midwife would be more supportive of fewer interventions and work with me to reach my goal. For me, it was important to have someone who was compassionate and listened to me and what I did and didn’t want and then discussed options with me. Then it was time for me to put in the work! I read, A LOT! I read books about natural childbirth, pregnancy books, and midwives. I pulled a lot from Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth by Ina May Gaskin as well as her book A Midwife’s Manifesto. For me, hearing about how so many other mothers succeeded in birthing without or with very little intervention, gave me strength in believing that I could do it too! She also relays so much information about pregnancy and the birth process itself, which I feel is important because knowledge can counter that fear of the unknown. I also started following birth friendly Instagram pages. Seeing images of mothers in the throws of labor and the birth process was helpful for me to imagine what my own experience might be. I was especially afraid of birthing a large baby. My mother had three children and at 8 lbs., I was her smallest. Then one day I came across an image on Instagram of a mother who birthed her 10 lbs. baby naturally and she had the most shocked and elated look on her face! I saved that image and would look at it whenever I was doubtful of my abilities. I also saved other birth affirmations on a Pinterest board, looking them over from time to time. I continued to exercise throughout my pregnancy. I knew that being physically healthy would allow me a better chance of achieving my goal. So I went to the gym like I normally would but informed my instructors of my pregnancy so that exercises could be modified if needed. Another fear I had was that my baby would be breech. As I went to OB appointments he was becoming quite comfortable in that position. I knew there were ways to get baby to turn so I did some searching and I found Spinning Babies. The exercises focus on position the baby and preparing the body for birth. I did that video religiously throughout my second and third trimester. My partner would make fun of the lady as she said “Breathe in love for your baby, breathe out love for your life”. It’s still stuck in my head over a year later!! But I do feel the video truly helped me prepare for the birth, physically and mentally. Probably the most important thing I did to have a successful low intervention birth, was hiring a doula. I went back and forth on the idea because I was doing a lot to prepare myself and I questioned whether or not I could do it on my own. But I am so glad I did! She was so supportive of me and my partner and all our wishes. She was a voice for me when I finally did go to the hospital and she knew the right nurses who would be supportive of my choices. Working in healthcare, I know the negative attitudes nurses can have towards birth plans and I didn’t want that to overshadow my birth experience. Having her there gave me piece of mind so I could focus on birthing my baby. No matter how we choose to bring our babies into this world, whether it’s a homebirth, a hospital birth with an epidural, or a belly birth, the point is that we as women have CHOICES in how we birth. Not only should they be choices but they should be educated and informed choices. Knowing we have choices and the strength to execute them is half the battle. The other half is making your choices known and having a support team that is fully on board with what you want and who can advocate for you when you can’t. Disclaimers: As a community resource, Cincinnati Birth and Parenting welcomes submissions from guest bloggers. The views, opinions and positions expressed within these guest posts are those of the author alone and do not represent those of Cincinnati Birth and Parenting, LLC. The accuracy, completeness and validity of any statements made within this article are not guaranteed. We accept no liability for any errors, omissions or representations. The copyright of this content belongs to the author and any liability with regards to infringement of intellectual property rights remains with them. Blog posts may include affiliate links, which means we may receive a commission if you click a link and purchase something that we have recommended. While clicking these links won't cost you any extra money, they will help us keep our blog up and running! “Midwife Means, with Woman”I was 21 years old when I had my oldest daughter. I didn’t know what a midwife was, I didn’t know what a birth center was, and I definitely had never heard of a doula. What I did know, somewhere deep inside my developing spirit was that I could probably have my baby without an epidural. I didn’t take a birthing class and I agreed to an induction at 41 weeks. I remember the first few contractions after the Pitocin had kicked in and after my water was broken. The nurse asked me “What number would you give your pain”? I sat in the bed and shrugged my shoulders, “I’m not sure, maybe a 5”? The nurse shook her head at me, “You are trying to do this without any medication? You need to make it lower, because it’s going to get a LOT worse”. The rest of that birth story goes like many other stories you might hear, especially surrounding first time, young mothers. I remember my body bearing down and not knowing what was happening. The nurse quickly escorting me back towards the bed, I was told I wasn’t coping very well. I needed the epidural. “Something’s happening!” I pleaded, “Something’s happening”! The fear was all consuming, no one could tell me what was happening. No one was listening. With a lift of my gown the nurse would see my baby crowning on my perineum, just in time for anesthesia to stroll into the room. My spirit crumbled. I was alone. Life went on for me after that birth. I moved back home with my parents and went to school and waited tables. I did what I was told, what was expected of me. I met my husband, we got married, and soon I was pregnant again. This time was going to be different. I wouldn’t be so loud. I wouldn’t be so extraordinary. I would do as I was told. I would obey the labor laws of the hospital. For all of my son’s labor I kneeled on the bed, hands over the head, so I would be no trouble when they hooked the monitors to my abdomen. I was quiet. I made no noise. I hit the familiar feeling of chaos that starts transition, and I whispered to my nurse that I thought I might be 7 cm. “Could you call my doctor, please”? I asked looking downward. “She knows honey, you still have a while”. “Ok, last time I transitioned kind of quickly…”, but she had already left the room. It was happening. Again. No one was listening. Twenty minutes later, when I contained my guttural moans as best I could, I asked if I could push. But I couldn’t stop. “Your doctor isn’t here!” came the screams. The running. The fear. The resident. No one was listening. No one was here. “You aren’t pushing hard enough”! My spirit retreated. I screamed out as I shoved him out with one mighty push. Alone. When I found out I was pregnant with my third baby, I considered home birth for a while, but eventually conceded that I would deliver at the same hospital. With the same nurses. Have the same kind of delivery. “It’s really ok”, I thought. I’ve done this alone, I can do this alone. I was 30 weeks pregnant when I would meet the Nurse Midwife that joined the practice. The reconfiguration in the middle of my pregnancy didn’t faze me much. It was the same nurses. At the same hospital. I knew a little bit more about midwives by now, and went to my first appointment without fear but also without expectation. “Yes my third baby,” I said. “Oh, I have an older boy and a girl”. The clock kept running, but still we kept talking. “I want to go natural again”, I said, wondering when I might get cut short. “Cool!” she responded, her smile warm, eyes encouraging. Our appointments were regular. My comfort kept growing. I confided in her that maybe I didn’t want to bother with this natural thing again; maybe I should just get the epidural. I was kind of tired- I don’t think I can do this again. I don’t think I can do this alone. “You’re going to do it,” she told me. My spirit stirred. The day she stripped my membranes, she handed me her cell phone number. She wasn’t on call this weekend, but she would come if I was in labor. The days dragged on, the cramping came and went, until it no longer quit. I sat in my bathtub generally miserable, while making what I now know to be the most vague triage phone call ever. “They haven’t stopped all day, but they aren’t evenly spaced at all”, I complained. “Well, do they feel stronger?” she asked genuinely. “I don’t know,” I cried. I was so tired. I couldn’t do it. She listened. She heard me. “Why don’t we just go into the hospital, and see what you’re doing”. We gathered the older kids, took them to a friend’s house, and when I still wasn’t at the hospital an hour after our phone call, I got a text asking if I was still going. My spirit shook again. “On our way”. The triage nurse called me 6 cm. I was laboring how I usually did, comfortable for the most part, and quiet. My spirit woke up when I saw her walk into the room. “I just got here,” I thought. “Does she know I just got here? Why is she here?” My mind couldn’t fathom why my provider would be present at the hospital so soon. She sat near me at the end of my bed and looked at me curiously. “Are you having any contractions now”? “Yes!” I begged. “Yes, this is always how I start. Once I hit 7, I’ll go super fast”. She listened. She saw me. The story began. The story of how I asked her to break my water, so no one could question if I was in labor. How she asked twice to make sure I really wanted that. The story of the nurse coming into the room to tie me to the monitors, and my midwife gently grabbing the Doppler and listening while following my movement. The story of her quietly setting up her delivery table while I leaned over the bed to labor. How she wrapped my saline-locked IV so I could step into the shower. But then, I felt the chaos begin. I knew what was coming. I knew it was terrifying. I didn’t want it. I ran. I ran from the shower, I ran to the bed, I let my voice explode. “I’m scared!” I shouted. “I’m so scared!” I was alone, but then she followed me. I only remember it in streaks of light. Her hair flashed behind me. “I know”, her voice at the end of the bed. She could hear me. My face buried into the side rail of the hospital bed. My body started to bear down, “NO!” I shouted. That didn’t feel the same- it was sharp and it shot through my body. Her hand on my leg, “there’s still some cervix there Megan”. The fear, it built. I couldn’t stop my body, I couldn’t stop the force. “She’s coming!” I yelled. “I really think she’s coming!” The fear overflowing, blinding everything else, tears stinging my eyes…. Then, her hand on my hand. Her voice in my ear. “She probably is”. What came next was the quiet. The peace. The surrender. The pause. Then finally, the push. My spirit unfolded and blossomed. Then it bloomed. She was listening. I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t alone. Archives July 2018 MY JOURNEY THROUGH INFERTILITY, LOSS, AND WHAT WORKED*Note: This post discusses sensitive topics such as pregnancy loss
We started trying just after I turned 30. For a long time, we didn’t worry that we were not getting pregnant. We weren’t really trying, we told ourselves. No rush, we told ourselves. And then finally, wonderfully, that big plus sign showed up! If you have ever looked down at a pregnancy test and you’ve been waiting to see that little plus sign (or digital “Pregnant”) then you will understand the feeling of being completely excited, overwhelmed by joy, and then fear, and for just a few moments it’s like your life stands still. You are pregnant. You are performing the sacred rite of creating another life. It’s not glamorous, peeing on a stick. But the next few moments after that can be some of the best of your life. I felt like the Grinch when “his heart grew three sizes that day!” My heart exploded with a new feeling of love that it had never felt before. It had taken about a year and half, but I was pregnant. I rushed to call my OB, only to hear that I would have to wait another month for our first ultrasound, since they are typically done at about 8 or 9 weeks. It felt like an eternity to wait so long! How were they not just as excited and thrilled as I was at this miraculous event? I couldn’t wait for that appointment. We arrived at the office and the tech took us back to the ultrasound room. The tech performed an external ultrasound (like you see in the movies with the gel on your belly) and then she didn’t say much. We stared at the screen and she stared at the screen. She excused herself and said she would send in the doctor. A doctor I didn’t know entered the room, apologized to me and told me the horribly crushing news that they did not detect a heartbeat. The OB I had seen at the practice previously was not there that day, so I was told this news by a stranger. It was the worst news of my life, in all honesty. Then the doctor asked me if I wanted them to perform a D&C procedure that day. What? What was a D&C? Why didn’t anyone ever tell you about this? I had no idea what she was even asking me. I felt like the whole thing was very clinical, which in retrospect I don’t think that was the best way to handle the situation, but I also understand she was just doing her job. She probably did not want to deliver this sad news to me, but she had to. We decided to go home to try and process what had just happened. I was incredibly sad, and broken. I lay in bed and cried a lot that day and for the next few days. I was so torn up from that experience that I actually switched doctors. I got a recommendation from a friend and the experience - while still very sad - was handled with much better bedside manner. I decided to go forward with using Cytotec to induce a miscarriage. I was 10 weeks pregnant. The new doctor and I discussed how we would go forward, and right now there wasn’t any mention of fertility treatment, but if we could not get pregnant within one year we would revisit the issue. We did get pregnant again, maybe six months afterwards, and I miscarried this baby too. Again the interminable wait until the first ultrasound and then the crushing disappointment almost did me in. We resolved to try again. What else can you do at that point? We so badly wanted children and it seemed like all I could focus on. But then in a couple of months I rushed to the hospital one day with excruciating pain in my lower left abdomen. I got an ultrasound at the hospital and the doctor diagnosed an endometrioma on my ovary, which is a small cyst of endometriosis. It was very painful, and I was referred to a fertility specialist at this time. The fertility specialist looked through all of my files and did bloodwork. Surprisingly, they did not want to treat the endometrioma. The doctor said to me that it would hopefully resolve itself, as endometriosis can sometimes do when you get pregnant. But then he told me I had anticardiolipin syndrome (say that fast three times!) which is a blood clotting problem. Essentially, my body was clotting and shutting off the development of the placenta when I was getting pregnant. That, he surmised, was the reason why I had lost my last two pregnancies. My own body was treating the pregnancy like a parasite, through no fault of my own. Although the blood test had found what was wrong and it could be fixed, I was still devastated by the two previous losses. I wondered so many times why this blood test was not performed on me after my first loss, or why in fact it was not performed on all women who are trying to conceive, just so that they don’t have to go through what I had been through. If it had, I might have had two children already! To this day it is one of the fruitless questions that passes through my mind. But we moved forward… We would keep trying to get pregnant, and when I had a positive test, I would come in for an early ultrasound and bloodwork to confirm the pregnancy. Then I would start taking blood thinners, which would prevent the clotting problem. This part was not fun, it meant I had to give myself a shot every day for the entire pregnancy. But at least it was a tangible way to fix the problem. This time it was another 6 months and we did not get pregnant. The fertility specialist then suggested using Femara at the beginning of my cycle (you take a pill for 5 days) and then using the Ovidrel trigger shot so we would know when ovulation was going to occur. They do an ultrasound on day 12 of your cycle to see how many eggs you have and how mature they are, and you do the shot on day 13, 14, or 15. It’s more complicated than that but in the interest of brevity, that’s basically the process. I did Femara and Ovidrel for 3 months, and on the 3rd try, we were pregnant again. I called the doctor basically the moment that I saw that positive test! We had an ultrasound at 6 weeks, and lo and behold, there was the heartbeat. We saw this little flicker on the screen and I had another one of those life-standing-still moments. It was incredible. I cried and smiled and laughed with my husband! We had a viable pregnancy this time! There was a baby in there, and the heart was already beating! It was truly a miracle. I began the blood thinner shots and my pregnancy went completely normally afterwards, although the anxiety and worrying if everything was ok with the baby continued. I luckily had a natural-birth friendly OB-GYN this time, we hired a birth doula, and my husband was incredibly supportive through the emotional rollercoaster of pregnancy. Nine months later, my son was born. We hadn’t found out beforehand so it was a surprise when the doctor said, “You have a son!” It was also a surprise when, eight months after my first birth, another little plus sign showed up. We hadn’t even been trying to get pregnant! I guess it’s true what they say, that sometimes it is easier to get pregnant the second time. Now we have two sons, and they are 16 months apart in age. The past couple of years have been a whirlwind of being pregnant twice and raising one and now two children. The journey through the losses of our first two babies, and through the loss of my Dad around the same time, was one of the hardest times of my life. But look at where we are now! A family of four, growing and changing together. I got through the hardest times by clinging to my husband, my family, and my friends, many of whom had experiences very similar to mine. It helped to talk about it sometimes, and it helped to lay in bed and do nothing sometimes. One important lesson I came away with was that there is no right way to grieve. No one can tell you how you are supposed to feel when you lose a child. You have to get through it in whatever seems like the best way to you. To some is a societal taboo to even mention that you have had a loss, but it happens to so many families in all kinds of different situations. We can and should talk about these losses, not only to normalize the topic but also so we are able to love and support one another through it. In memory of my two babies and my Dad, I got a tattoo one cold winter day on my shoulder blade of three forget-me-nots. Although it might seem like a funny thing to commemorate with a tattoo, it’s a bittersweet symbol of the losses but also a reminder to appreciate the joys that I have now. I cherish the memories with my Dad and often think about what advice he would be giving me as a parent. I look at my two children and think, “I am so lucky. Look at these two wondrous little beings that have been placed in my care.”
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Who are we?Cincinnati Birth and Parenting, LLC was founded by Molly Murray, a birth and postpartum doula and childbirth educator. Through this growing company, Molly connects parents with information, resources, and support while also staying committed to building up fellow professionals and connecting them with the people who need their services most. Archives
April 2020
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