When doulas interview doulas

I recently shared some responses to some questions by the delightful Georgie, one of the doulas in our collective, and it felt right to place here too. I think these conversations matter for everyone not just doulas, and because it felt right for this to have a home in our journal.

How do I doula myself?

The way I doula myself probably isn’t in a traditionally doula sense. Part of the reason I became a doula was because I wanted to offer others the opportunity to access the kinds of support I wished I’d had, particularly in the postpartum space. In the birth space, it was about having a very different experience to others I knew, and then wanting more people to have the opportunity to experience birth in a supported and informed way.

I believe the transition into motherhood is an enormous, earth shifting one. When it isn’t treated that way, when it’s manipulated and influenced by systems that I see as quite problematic, my sense of justice becomes strong. That’s what motivates me in this work.

When I ask myself how I doula myself, most of it comes back to compassion. I’ve always been quite self critical, with a tendency towards perfectionism and control, and to be in service of others, often at the expense of myself. Doing this work has opened the opportunity to honour myself in the same way I honour others.

I really believe that the most impactful elements of this work are the things you feel, and often the things you don’t see. For me, it’s about having ongoing conversations with myself about bringing in compassion, creating space for healing, learning to ask for help, and allowing vulnerability.

On a practical level, I definitely have more baths since becoming a doula. I’m more intentional about carving out space for myself and prioritising care that I put off for a long time, including starting to see a psychologist. I still have a long way to go before I feel like I’m truly tending to myself holistically, but progress happens in small steps, and I honour that. I’m learning that it’s okay for things to be slow, non linear, topsy turvy, and winding. It’s about coming back again and again, with compassion.

What has been hard to adjust to from maiden to mother?

There are many things that have been challenging, but probably the biggest is this idea that I have to have all the answers, and that things have to look perfect for them to be good.

Before becoming a mother, aesthetics and how things looked mattered to me in a way they no longer do. That shift has been hard, and it’s still something I’m learning to sit with. It’s also tied to capacity, time, and the expectations I held for myself before motherhood. We live in a world that expects a return to who we were before, but the truth is that we don’t go back. We can only go forward, taking with us what serves us and releasing what doesn’t.

I still struggle with wanting to do more, get more done, and tick every box, while also wanting to be a deeply present parent who has time and space for emotions, slowness, and connection. Sometimes I take the long way around with my kids, and I have to remind myself that 24 hours now is not the same 24 hours I had before.

Take today, for example. I had a terrible sleep, was awake for hours overnight, and ended up in that half sleep limbo until the alarm went off. The morning was a whirlwind, getting the boys ready, making lunches, gently waking them up, managing breakfast, brushing teeth, packing bags, drop offs, all while trying to fit in a connection call before I could even have a shower. By the time I got to my workspace, I knew I’d only have about four hours there before I had to start the pickups again.

I carry these grand expectations of productivity but rarely tick everything off. When your sense of self worth has long been tied to getting things done, it’s confronting to feel constantly unfinished. I know the rational side of it, I know to count the invisible labour, to recognise all that I do achieve, but I’m also living in a capitalist, patriarchal world where productivity and performance are still the currency.

This is my life, my reality. It isn’t right or wrong, but it is challenging. The biggest shift for me has been navigating that identity change, what I do, who I am, before and after motherhood, because so much of it is unseen. Emotions don’t have an aesthetic, and there aren’t many places where we can truly unpack them. Even with a strong, loving village around me, I still feel the loneliness that can come with being seen in a new way.

It’s been confronting to show up as the version of myself that is emerging now, softer, more vulnerable, less in control. And yet, it’s also liberating. The shift is complex and nuanced, but it’s vital work. I can’t go back to who I was before, and I’m learning that I don’t need to. There is so much beauty and magic in what is, and in what’s still to come.

A favourite tip or something unique to your doula care

I’m not sure there’s such a thing as a completely unique idea anymore, but I think what makes my work unique is that I am the one doing it. When people work with me, they get the whole of me, my life experience, professional background, personal reflections, and the threads of all I’ve lived and learned. That in itself makes the work different.

Something I often share with clients is this: in birth and in motherhood, you don’t become someone else, you become more of yourself.

People often prepare for birth or parenting as though they need to fill a gap, to learn how to be something new. But I believe it’s less about learning and more about uncovering, discovering who we already are, what we value, what we need, and how we want to live. Preparation should be as much about self awareness as it is about learning birth skills or information.

I encourage people to explore themselves and the relationships that will hold them through this time, their partner, family, or support circle. In birth, especially, we return to our most natural patterns of being. We respond instinctively, from the core of who we are. Sometimes those responses aren’t what we’d label as positive, but that doesn’t make them wrong, it makes them real.

My approach isn’t about changing people so they fit a particular ideal of what birth or motherhood should look like. It’s about holding them as they are, so they can be well supported, fully seen, and gently guided as they become more of themselves than ever before.