12/15/2025
Birth work is lonely in a way that’s hard to explain.
We work in rooms full of people, yet we do this work alone.
Different calls. Different families. Different stories.
So much of it lives quietly inside us.
We hold space with our hands.
With our bodies. With eye contact, breath, touch, steady presence.
We offer hugs that ground, hands that don’t let go, silence that says I’m here without words.
We hold happiness just as much as pain.
Joy so big it cracks you open. Love so raw it humbles you.
And then we walk away, carrying all of it with us.
That’s why being with other birth workers matters so much.
Because they understand the language of touch.
They know what it means to hold joy and grief in the same shift.
They don’t need the backstory.
I’m so grateful for this community.
And especially for my friend Eldred—so lovely, so present, and a truly great doula. The kind who holds space with her whole heart.
This work asks a lot of us.
And sometimes the thing that keeps us going is being held, too. 💛