My Doula Saved My Life: The Role and Benefits of Having a Birth and Postpartum Doula
MY doula saved my life: the role and benefits of having A birth & postpartum doula
I recently went through one of the hardest and most beautiful things a person can do: I birthed twins vaginally. It was powerful, it was painful, and honestly—I don’t think I would have made it through without my doula.
Carrying twins full-term, both perfectly head-down, I was determined to have a natural, unmedicated hospital birth. I wanted a home birth in my heart, but my partner wasn’t ready for that, so I compromised. I trusted my body, I trusted the babies, and I trusted the process.
When my water broke around 10 p.m., I set the tone—soft music, sound baths, bouncing on my ball. I was calm. I felt ready. But when we got to the hospital in the early morning, that peace shattered.
The doctors came at me fast, pushing a C-section before I’d even been checked. There were no complications, but suddenly the conversation was filled with threats: Your babies could die. You could die. We won’t deliver them vaginally.
They lied about the babies’ positions. They made it sound like my body was a ticking time bomb. And my partner—terrified by the white coats and the what-ifs—started siding with them. At one point, I was told I might end up on the street with two newborns if I didn’t just “listen to the doctors.” Imagine being in the deepest pain of your life, contractions ripping through you every 45 seconds, and hearing that.
They lied about the babies’ positions. They made it sound like my body was a ticking time bomb. And my partner—terrified by the white coats and the what-ifs—started siding with them. At one point, I was told I might end up on the street with two newborns if I didn’t just “listen to the doctors.” Imagine being in the deepest pain of your life, contractions ripping through you every 45 seconds, and hearing that.
I felt cornered, broken down, and ready to give up. I remember crying, praying to my ancestors for strength.
And then—my doula walked in.
She didn’t just show up, she saved me. She touched my shoulders, massaged my arms, and reminded me of who I was: strong, intuitive, more than capable. She told me I had a choice. That my body wasn’t broken. That I knew what I was doing. Her words and presence snapped me back to myself.
I found my voice. I told the doctors “no.” I demanded a team who knew how to deliver twins vaginally. And, almost like divine intervention, the shift changed. A nurse of color stepped in and became an ally. A new doctor walked in—calm, human, respectful. He listened to me, explained the risks without fear tactics, and reassured me that he’d successfully delivered many twins naturally.
Minutes later, we were in the surgical room (just in case). With an epidural and a supportive team, Ora was born. Forty minutes later, Orion followed. No tears, no complications—just life.
I later learned that in over a decade, only one other person had delivered twins vaginally at that hospital. That shook me. Not because I felt special, but because it showed how stacked the system is against natural twin births, and how badly advocacy is needed.
That night, my doula didn’t just comfort me—she changed the entire course of my birth. Without her, I was seconds away from giving in to the pressure and signing up for a surgery I didn’t want or need. She reminded me of my power when I couldn’t remember it for myself. She gave me my voice back at the exact moment I was losing it.
In that sense, she really did save my life—not just my physical body, but my experience of becoming a mother. She saved me from trauma, from silence, from walking out of that hospital feeling broken instead of whole.
What a Doula Really Does
People think doulas are just “extra hands” or “birth coaches.” No. A doula is a lifeline. They don’t replace doctors or midwives—they bring balance. They’re the ones who remind you that your body is wise, your voice matters, and you’re not alone in the storm.
Here’s what doulas do:
Educate & Prepare: Helping you understand your options, your rights, your coping tools.
Advocate: Speaking up when you’re too tired, scared, or in pain to speak for yourself.
Hold You: Literally and figuratively. They offer touch, presence, and reassurance.
Postpartum Support: Helping with breastfeeding, newborn care, and your healing body.
Connect: Pointing you toward community resources so you’re not left adrift once the birth is over.
For Black women especially, doulas are vital. The maternal health crisis is real, and too many of us aren’t heard, respected, or believed in medical spaces. A doula doesn’t solve racism in healthcare, but they can stand between you and a system that often tries to bulldoze you.
Why I’m Sharing This
I’m not writing this to get clients—I’m on pause myself as I raise my twins. I’m sharing this because I don’t want anyone else to go through birth feeling silenced, cornered, or unsafe.
Birth isn’t just medical. It’s spiritual. It’s ancestral. It’s transformational. And every birthing person deserves to feel empowered, respected, and held.
My doula gave me that. She gave me my voice back when I almost lost it. And because of her, I got the birth I prayed for—Ora and Orion in my arms, no scars, no regrets.
If you’re pregnant or planning to be, please—look into having a doula. Ask questions, find someone you trust, and know that you deserve support.
Because sometimes, a doula doesn’t just hold your hand. Sometimes, they save your life.
