What It's Really Like to Be An Abortion Doula
Holding the hand of a tense, confused, or crying woman as the fetal tissue, baby, or whatever she's choosing to call it exits her body is not something I ever thought I would be doing.
I became a birth doula and childbirth educator after the birth of my son four years ago, when I realized how inspiring (and confusing!) the journey into motherhood was for many women. I loved talking and learning about all the different aspects of it, so I became trained as a HypnoBirthing Practitioner, then went through a birth doula certification course. I've been teaching and accompanying women to births ever since.
The first time I supported a woman through an abortion was when a former client, Sara*, contacted me after receiving an unexpected positive pregnancy test. I had met Sara during her first pregnancy, when she and her husband had attended my childbirth preparation classes and hired me as a birth doula. I helped them create a vision for how they wanted their birth to go, prep the nursery, pack the hospital bag, and understand the information their care provider offered in prenatal appointments, and then I supported them emotionally and physiologically through their son's birth. I went to their house twice in the week following the birth to provide breastfeeding support, answer baby care questions, and help them understand any aspects of their birth experience that confused them. It was a joyful time, and I enjoyed working with them.
The second time, Sara reached out because she had recently been diagnosed with stage III breast cancer; she was consumed with preserving her own life, not considering the growth of a new one. She asked me to support her through aborting the pregnancy, much like I had for her son's birth.
Without thinking, I said yes to supporting her. I've never regretted that hasty answer - but helping her has changed me and shifted the way I work with women. Although I believe in a woman's right to make decisions for her body, I'd never been put in a position that required me to stand behind that belief.
I spent two hour-long sessions with Sara in the days proceeding the abortion, allowing her to cry, scream, regret, question her decision, be angry, and wonder if the grief would kill her. I barely said anything during this time - I just sat by her on the couch in my office, gave her tissues, nodded as she spoke, and held her hand. She said those two hours were the only time she felt completely free to express what was going on inside her. At home, she wanted to be stoic to protect her husband and son.
She was consumed with preserving her own life, not considering the growth of a new one.
The day of the abortion, we walked into the clinic with one of her hands in mine, the other in her husband's. I was so nervous - I had never attended an abortion and only knew about what the procedure entailed from Internet research and a few friends who shared their personal experiences. Abortion had not been covered in my childbirth prep or birth training which, now that I look back, feels like a disservice. I dug the fingernail of my thumb into my pointer finger to keep from shaking - this wasn't about me and I needed to keep it together for Sara.
I had seen women have intense reactions during births, and I've even been in situations where the woman's life was at risk, but the end goal in those situations was always something the mother was thrilled to accept. Walking into the clinic with Sara was different. She was going to have a procedure that she wanted, but was devastated about needing. I had no idea what her reaction would be and I was nervous I wouldn't be able to respond in a way that would help her. But when I saw the grief on her face as I opened the clinic door, I realized that my nerves wouldn't get in the way; I would do anything I could to take even a slice of Sara's suffering away.
As we sat in the room, I encouraged her to breathe, and took her through a guided meditation. We then went over the protocol for the procedure and our plan for how her husband and I would comfort her. She found chanting mantras to be soothing, so when the procedure began I chanted the ones she loved in low, rhythmic tones. As the sound of the machine used for vacuum aspiration (which is used for a surgical abortion) filled our ears, I chanted louder.
When it was over, Sara was crying. I didn't know what to say to her. Everything that came into my head - "you made the right choice," "now you can focus on your health," or "don't worry, you'll have another baby someday" - felt wrong. So I just gave her a hug. She latched on and pressed her eyes into my shoulder. I felt her tears soaking into my T-shirt during the 10-minute period we stood there, simply embracing one another.
A week later, I visited Sara's home on three separate occasions and sat with her in bed while she cried and said all the things that were too tricky to say to her husband. She was relieved that she could put her attention back on her health and nurturing the young son she already had. But at the same time, she raged with frustration toward the universe for allowing her to become pregnant when she obviously wasn't in a position to physically or mentally sustain life in her womb. Each day, I would leave after she'd exhausted herself and fallen asleep.
The two of us kept in touch and now, Sara is in remission and I'm supporting her through IVF to conceive her next child.
Although I never offered abortion doula services before that experience and I still don't have it listed on my website, I've had six past clients who have hired me after becoming pregnant during a divorce, finding out their fetus had serious developmental issues, discovering their teenage daughter was pregnant, or finding themselves in other unique and challenging situations that led them to consider abortion.
I've learned that no one-size-fits-all emotion is attached to terminating a pregnancy - every journey is different and distinct to each individual. Some women look completely empty, like a shell of their former self; others appear to be lighter, like they have refreshed hope; and some are a combination of both as they work through the full range of emotions that come with an abortion.
While there are some clients who do change their mind and move forward with their pregnancy, those who elect abortion have my services before, during, and after the procedure. In follow-up appointments, we do a lot of thought-processing and healing activities, like Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT), a way to reset the energy impacting our emotions, or journaling. By this point, we're often so connected that I feel protective of them, and I would do anything to surround them in love during this transition.
I say yes because I want to help them through what can be a very difficult time, but it's a very intense experience for me, too. Because I set aside my own emotions - anxiety that I might not be able to offer the woman the support she needs, frustration with the bigger conversation around abortion, and sadness for the sense of loss many of my clients experience - when I offer this care, I see my therapist after each abortion to evaluate and clear any issues that come up in me. This work has been a difficult, bizarre, and liberating practice in stepping out of my own head and putting another woman's nerves, questions, and concerns above my own. I now view my doula calling as more than supporting women through pregnancy and childbirth - I'm supporting them on their journey of finding their way into motherhood, and sometimes that is choosing to only mother their own self.
*Names have been changed for privacy.
Follow Redbook on Facebook.
You Might Also Like
